


Fixture

by eff_reality



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 13:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eff_reality/pseuds/eff_reality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For monaboyd_month 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixture

Dominic has only been in New Zealand a couple of weeks, and he’s already spent nearly a full one on Billy’s sofa, stretched out from end to end with his gangly limbs tucked underneath the itchy throw blanket Billy’s sister had shipped in a care package from home. Billy’s had some nights away as well; they’ve all gotten into the habit of crashing with each other, driven by the same energy that drives childhood sleepovers, camp (Billy wouldn’t know, but Elijah’d said), and marathon acting projects on the other side of the world. Still, Dominic’s never taken the opportunity to stay over at one of the other guys’ flats.

Billy notices. He doesn’t make assumptions, but he notices.

Dominic’s quickly becoming a fixture, not just on his sofa, but in his life, and his heart. It comforts Billy as he lays down to sleep at night (in a bed that still has yet to mold to him), knowing that if he stills himself enough, he’ll be able to hear Dominic’s breath down the hall, a snuffle and a sigh as he turns onto his side and finally falls into a beer-induced coma.

One such night, Billy wakes at dawn with a parched throat. He tumbles out of bed and to his feet, sniffling as he makes his way toward the kitchen. Just before he reaches the archway, he notices that one of the lamps in the living room is on. He smiles to himself, suspecting he’ll have to shut it and pull an open book off of Dom’s chest. 

What he finds instead as he crosses the threshold is Dominic wide awake, legs outstretched but the rest of him upright as he taps away on his laptop keyboard, his open journal and an empty cup of tea (and two other used and abused bags beside it) on the coffee table.

“Hi,” Billy says, managing to sound surprised, amused, and concerned all at once.

Dominic finishes a sentence, then inhales, finally lifting his eyes. “Hi.” He reaches for his cup and finishes it, then suddenly looks alarmed. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, I came in for a drink.” Billy gestures toward the kitchen, then follows his own hand, prying open the fridge door and pulling out a bottle of water. “You’ve been writing a lot, haven’t you?” He cracks the seal on the cap, twists it off, and drains half of its contents.

“It’s terrible,” Dom sighs, bending his knees so his legs fold together, making room for Billy. “I know I need more sleep, but... I can’t help it.”

Billy sits, his curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

Dominic actually blushes, something Billy’s never seen him do before—and isn’t sure he ever expected to see him do. He runs a hand back and forth across his fuzzy hair. “‘S nothing really organized... sort of like poetry.”

Billy’s eyebrows raise.

“I haven’t written poetry in years,” Dom explains. “It’s strange.”

“Why d’you think you’re writing it now?” That Billy feels comfortable enough to ask that question, and so easily, is yet another sign of just how close they’re going to become—have already become.

A strange, bashful little smile graces Dominic’s face. “It’s something I usually do when I’m in love.” He cuts his eyes at Billy, seemingly waiting for a reaction. “I feel things more strongly. Everything seems heightened: a cup of tea, a shower, everything. I could write pages about either of those things.”

Billy smiles, breathless. “Are you in love?” he eventually asks.

Dominic leans his elbow on the back of the sofa and props his chin on his hand, examining Billy again. “You don’t just ask a man that.” He unfolds his legs, feet pushing into Billy’s thigh for a stretch before settling in his lap. “Where are your bloody manners?”

Billy bites his lip, smirking as Dominic turns his attention back to his laptop screen. He drains the rest of his water and places the empty bottle on the coffee table like a punctuation mark. This frees his hands up to address one of Dom’s feet, thumbs pushing gently at the arch, his smirk turning into a full-on smile as Dom’s fingers start to fly over the keys.


End file.
